Disappointment
by lazypadawan
Summary: Anakin comes home from leave and looks forward to romance with Padmé. He's in for one big surprise.


Disappointment

Anakin Skywalker's heart beat with anticipation as he rode up the turbolift to Padmé's Coruscant home, holding a bouquet of flowers. He had been fighting the Separatists for two months straight and he found a window of time when he could rendezvous with his love. He was a young man, a warrior, and he'd lacked female companionship for too long. How the other Jedi could lead celibate lives was beyond him.

He imagined finding Padmé waiting for him in the sanctity of their bedroom. The lights would be dimmed and there would be the spicy-sweet scent of candles from her homeworld. Perhaps there would also be chilled blossom wine. He pictured her dressed in a scintillating lace nightgown, lying on the bed seductively, her amber-brown eyes begging, "Come hither." Her lustrous chestnut curls would flow loose and free over her shoulders and down her back, just the way he liked it. Anakin licked his lips at the prospect of kissing her and tasting her. He could almost smell the light gentle wildflower scent that seemed to radiate from her soft, smooth skin.

The turbolift couldn't go fast enough. He longed to find his angel and he did not doubt she longed for him.

Once he arrived at the spacious penthouse, he strode past Padmé's security detail and her handmaidens, nodding at them in acknowledgment. They were used to Anakin's visits and Padmé reassured him her people were completely loyal and trustworthy.

"Master Jedi," Captain Typho greeted.

"Captain," Anakin replied. Was it him or was there a bit of a smirk on Typho's face? Ah well, the chief security officer had never been good at hiding his disapproval of Anakin's relationship with Padmé, but at least he kept his mouth shut.

He could sense Padmé's presence in the bedroom, so he continued in that direction. He allowed himself a slight smile, knowing that in a few moments, they would be in each other's arms again. Artoo trundled up to him and beeped an excited greeting. "Hello, Artoo," he said.

"Master Anakin, you've returned!" Threepio came down the corridor, shining in his new gold plating.

"Threepio, it's good to see you," Anakin said, not breaking his stride. He could catch up with the droids later.

"Oh, Master Anakin, there's something you should know about Mistress Padmé..."

"Later, Threepio." Sometimes Anakin wished he didn't create the droid to be so talkative.

He entered the bedchamber and closed the door behind him. As he stood in the antechamber, he combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Then he stepped into the bedchamber proper, noticing right away the lights were dimmed. He grinned slightly, announcing, "Padmé, I'm home!"

Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Ani?" an unfamiliar voice croaked. Padmé looked up from the holodrama she'd been watching and sneezed. Loudly.

She was lying on the bed, just as Anakin had envisioned. But she was propped up on pillows. Instead of a seductive lace nightgown, she wore a cotton undershirt and baggy thermal training pants. On her feet was a pair of fuzzy hoojib slippers. Her hair was loose, but it was also messy and tangled. Her amber-brown eyes were bloodshot and her normally-delicate nose was red and swollen. Instead of the scents of wildflowers and spicy-sweet candles, there was the smell of medication.

"I'm sorry, Ani, I went on a diplomatic mission to Kothlis and caught the Bothan flu," Padmé sniffled, her voice hoarse. "Didn't Threepio tell you?"

"He tried," a dejected Anakin muttered.

Padmé tried to say something, but she started hacking. Anakin set aside the flowers and rushed forward to pour her a glass of water. Gratefully, she accepted the glass and drank some of the water. Once she stopped coughing, she croaked, "Thank you, Ani, but maybe you shouldn't come too close. I don't want you to catch it."

"I'm a Jedi. We can control our antibodies to fight diseases," he reassured her. "I can help you with a healing trance."

"Oh, Ani, won't a healing trance put me to sleep for two days?" Padmé said. "I don't want to be unconscious for that long. Besides, it's just a little flu, nothing too serious or life-threatening. I'd rather just let nature take its course."

Anakin sighed. "I'll be gone again by the time nature takes its course."

"I'm sorry, Ani," she said sadly. "I was looking forward to a romantic two or three days with you. But..." She paused to sneeze. "I'm just not up to it. I hope you'll understand."

"Of course, Padmé."

"Will you be a dear and have Moteé put those lovely flowers in a vase? And have Threepio bring me some more soup? You can stay in the guest suite across the hall."

"Anything you say, my angel."

With that, Padmé snatched up some tissue and loudly blew her nose.

_Twenty four years later in the _Executor_'s bridge..._

Admiral Piett snapped a salute. "Lord Vader, we have identified and captured the Rebel spies. They are all Bothans."

Vader grumbled, "Bothans. I hate Bothans! Have the torture droids at the ready. Make sure the pain setting is at its highest level."

"Yes, my Lord."


End file.
